Chapter 10 Chapter Ten

Chapter 10 Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The clock above the whiteboard is broken. Has to be. No way it can take this long for the hands to crawl from one number to the next. I keep counting in my head—seconds, minutes, breaths—but every time I check, it’s barely moved.
Three-thirty. That’s all that matters. That’s all I have to make it to.
I lean forward, elbows on the desk, staring at the grain in the wood until the lines blur. It almost feels like I can hear her voice if I focus hard enough, the way she said my name last night—shaking, desperate, real. And Josh was there, too. That part I can’t forget.
He brought her. He drove her all the way here, three hours in the middle of the night, just because she begged. That’s the thing—I know he doesn’t want me anywhere near her. I know he looks at me like I’ve already ruined everything. But he came. For her. For me, maybe. Or maybe just to make sure I wasn’t dragging his sister down with me.
And now? He’s the one behind the wheel again. He’s the one I’ll have to face before I can even look at her.
My stomach twists. I rub the heel of my hand over my chest like I can press the ache down, make it quiet. Doesn’t work.
By the time two o’clock rolls around, I can’t focus, I didn’t even eat lunch earlier when. Eben tried to hand me half his sandwich, asked me if I’m okay. I told him yeah, fine, just tired. He didn’t push. He never pushes. That’s the difference between him and Ari. She sees right through me, even when I don’t want her to.
I think about last night again—the glass, the shouting, the slam of the door. The cold water. How close I came to letting it all swallow me. If she hadn’t called, if I hadn’t heard her voice at the exact second I needed it—
No. I can’t go there. Not now. Not when she’s already on her way back.
I grip my phone under the table, knuckles white, checking the time every few seconds. Each buzz makes my heart leap, even though I know it’s not her. It doesn’t matter. She already said everything I needed. I read her message again.
We’re on our way. 3:30.
Josh is driving her. Which means every mile they cover is one mile closer to me. One mile closer to seeing her step out of that car.
I just have to make it a little longer. Hold on. Pretend I’m fine until the bell rings. Then it’s just waiting. Then it’s her.
Three-thirty.
I whisper it again, lips barely moving.
“…Gavin?”
My head jerks up. The teacher’s staring at me, marker frozen in her hand. The whole class goes quiet for a second, like they’ve all been waiting for this moment.
Shit.
I glance at the board, but the numbers swim, nonsense on a white surface. My mouth goes dry. I throw out the first thing that comes to mind—something about the quadratic formula that doesn’t even make sense.
The room cracks open with laughter. A couple kids in the back slap their desks, and the teacher shakes her head with that tight, disappointed smile teachers always have when they’ve already decided you’re not worth the effort.
Heat burns my ears. I can feel every eye on me, like they’re peeling away the skin to see what’s underneath. If they only knew. If any of them had even the faintest clue what last night was like—
“Don’t worry,” a girl next to me leans in, her voice sugary-sweet, just loud enough for me to hear over the laughter. “I think you’re cute even when you’re clueless.”
She touches her pen to her lips, tilting her head like this is her shot. Like I’m supposed to grin back, flirt, turn the humiliation into a joke and maybe a date. That’s what I would’ve done before. That’s what I have done a dozen times.
But the thought makes my stomach twist.
All I can see is Ari’s text glowing against the dark, all I can hear is her voice last night breaking in my ear. She’s the one holding me together. She’s the only one I want. And suddenly, this girl leaning closer feels wrong. Wrong in a way that makes my skin crawl.
I pull back, grip my pencil so tight it might snap. “Not interested,” I mutter, sharper than I mean to.
Her smile falters. She blinks, caught off guard, before she turns back toward her notes. The laughter around me fades into the normal buzz of class again, but the taste in my mouth is bitter.
Because the truth is, I’m not disgusted by her. I’m disgusted by myself—by how easily I used to play that game, how shallow it all feels now. Ari changed that. Ari changed me.
And now every second between us feels like too long.
I press my palm against my thigh, whispering it again in my head. Three-thirty. Just make it to three-thirty.
The last fifteen minutes crawl by like hours. My leg bounces under the desk, shaking the floor until the kid next to me shoots me a glare. I don’t care. My mind isn’t here, hasn’t been here all day.
The second the bell screams through the building, my phone buzzes in my lap. I yank it out before the teacher can bark at me about packing up too fast.
Ari: We’re outside. Waiting for you.
My chest slams like I just ran a mile. They’re here. She’s here.
I’m on my feet before the echo of the bell fades, shoving books into my bag without even zipping it. The strap digs into my shoulder as I cut through the crowd, every step pounding with one thought: get to Ari.
The hallway is chaos, lockers slamming, voices bouncing off the walls. It feels like I’m moving underwater, pushing against bodies that don’t move fast enough. Every second feels stolen from me.
Then Eben steps out of his classroom, casual, like nothing in the world is urgent. He spots me instantly, brows furrowed like he’s about to ask where I’m rushing off to.
I don’t slow down. I dig my keys from my pocket and toss them at him. They spin through the air, catching the harsh fluorescent light before he barely snags them.
“Drive yourself home!” I bark over my shoulder, barely breaking stride.
“Wait—Gav, what—?”
But I’m already past him, sprinting down the stairs two at a time, shoving through clusters of kids who shoot me annoyed looks. My pulse thunders in my ears.
I don’t care. I can practically see her already, waiting for me just outside those doors.
I push harder, faster. The world narrows to the end of the hall, to the glare of sunlight spilling through the glass doors. Just a few more steps.
Just a few more seconds and she’ll be there.

\[Ari\]

I lean against the car, my backpack at my feet, pretending like I’m calm when inside my chest is pounding so hard I can barely breathe. Kids spill out of the school doors in noisy waves, laughing, shoving, heading toward their buses. Every second feels like forever.
Then I see him.
Gavin. Cutting through the crowd like he’s chasing air, like nothing else matters but getting here. His steps are fast, uneven, almost reckless—eyes locked on me, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he blinks.
My breath stutters. I grip the edge of the car door just to keep steady, because the look on his face—it’s raw, desperate, and it makes the whole world tilt. Josh mutters something from the driver’s seat, but I don’t hear it. I don’t hear anything.
The second he bursts through the doors, I push off the car. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t say a word. In an instant, he’s in front of me, his arms crushing me to him, like he’s been holding his breath all day and I’m the only way to let it out.
I sink into him without hesitation, burying my face against his shoulder, his shirt warm from the sun and still faintly carrying the scent of river water and soap.
“I told you I’d come back,” I whisper, so soft no one else could possibly hear.
His hold tightens, his breath trembling against my hair. “I was counting on it.”
For a heartbeat, everything else—the students, the cars, even Josh watching silently from behind the wheel—fades away. It’s just me and Gavin, holding on like if we let go, the world might break apart all over again.
Whistles cut through the air. A chorus of teasing shouts—“Go, QB!” “Get it, Gavin!” “About time!”—ripple across the parking lot. A group of football guys clap and laugh, and even a couple of girls mutter under their breath, jealousy dripping like venom.
But Gavin doesn’t let go. He doesn’t even flinch. His forehead rests against mine when the kiss finally breaks, his breath ragged, his eyes still locked on me like none of them matter.

Josh slapped a hand over his face, groaning loud enough for half the parking lot to hear.
“I cannot believe you two just did that—in public. In front of everyone.”
His voice carried the perfect mix of disgust and exasperation, like he’d just been forced to watch the cringiest romance movie ever made.
“You know people are staring, right? Whistling? Cheering? Oh my god…” He turned away, muttering, “This is my actual nightmare. My best friend and my little sister—full-on kissing like the climax of some cheesy teen drama. Unbelievable.”
My flushed scarlet, pulling slightly back from Gavin, though his hands still cupped her face like he couldn’t bear to let her go. Gavin only smirked, unbothered, like the noise around them didn’t exist.
Josh groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m gonna need therapy after this. Like, serious therapy.”

\[Gavin\]

I can feel the heat of the moment still clinging to us when Gavin’s gaze flickers toward the edge of the crowd.
A girl I barely know—one of those annoying types who flirted with me all day—has made herself visible, leaning against the school wall. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even move, just watches. I notice her, briefly registering the tension she brings, but it barely matters. My focus snaps back to Ari. She’s here. She’s real.
I press my forehead back to hers, breathing ragged, as if letting go for even a second might make her vanish.
Josh, still leaning against the car, mutters something low and horrified, probably half to himself. “Oh my God… now this is happening?” His arms are crossed like he’s physically shielding himself from the spectacle.
And then Mara pushes through the crowd. Her sharp gaze immediately lands on Josh, and I can see the moment she realizes he’s here—why wasn’t I told?—though she doesn’t approach us just yet. Her eyes flick from him to me and then back again, calculating.
I tighten my hold on Ari without thinking. My focus is hers, her warmth, her heartbeat, her scent—everything the girl at the wall can’t touch, everything Mara doesn’t yet know.
Josh groans audibly, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t even. Why do I have to witness this here?”
I notice him, barely registering the words. His embarrassment doesn’t matter. All I can think about is Ari.
And for the first time in hours, maybe days, I feel like I can breathe again.

\[Ari\]

Mara’s footsteps crunch against the pavement, deliberate, measured. She stops just a few feet from Josh, eyes narrowing. “Seriously, Josh… why did you two come all this way?” Her tone isn’t loud, but there’s this sharp edge to it that makes Josh stiffen.
He doesn’t answer. He just gestures with one hand toward me and Gavin, who are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, the world around us melting away.
Mara follows his gesture, her gaze landing on us. Her lips press into a thin line, eyes flicking between Gavin and me. For a second, I swear she’s trying to parse some hidden code, trying to figure out exactly what this all means.
Josh huffs and leans back against the car, arms crossed like he’s finally giving up on pretending he’s not mortified. “See for yourself,” he mutters, almost to himself.
Mara’s eyes soften slightly, not entirely approving, but understanding more than I expected. She tilts her head, like she’s realizing this isn’t just some random drama—this is bigger.
I feel Gavin squeeze my hands lightly, grounding me, and I can’t help but glance at Josh. He’s still visibly uncomfortable, like watching some romance movie on fast-forward while sitting in the front row, half-grossed out and half-protective all at once.
And Mara… Mara just watches, saying nothing more, letting the truth be shown without any words, until she sees Josh she walks across the small gap from the car, and approaches Josh. She stops a few feet away, eyebrows raised. “Wait… what are you doing here?” Her voice is sharp, curious, and she glances at me and Gavin, taking in the scene.
Josh leans against the car, arms crossed, looking a little uncomfortable. “We came to… check on things,” he says vaguely, trying not to get drawn into an explanation.
Mara’s eyes narrow slightly, puzzled. “Check on… what? You never said you were coming.”
Josh gestures vaguely toward me and Gavin, still wrapped up in each other’s arms. “See for yourself.”
Her gaze follows the motion, landing on us. Her lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t say anything else, not yet, just absorbing the scene like she’s realizing there’s more to this than she knew.
Josh groans softly under his breath, exasperated and embarrassed. “Of course, I get stuck watching the entire drama unfold. Front-row seat to a bad romance movie.”
Meanwhile, Gavin holds me tighter, forehead pressed to mine, oblivious to the whistles and teasing shouts from the football guys. They’re edging closer now, grinning, trying to get a reaction. Gavin doesn’t flinch. He holds me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
I hide my blush in his shoulder, heart hammering, listening to the sound of his steady breaths. Mara just watches, trying to parse what she’s seeing, while Josh mutters under his breath, half-grossed-out and half-awestruck.
I barely have a moment to breathe when a strong arm wraps around my shoulders, tugging me slightly away from Gavin. My heart skips.
“Hey! Wait a second—who are you?” a tall guy asks, leaning closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Never seen you around. Friends with the QB, huh? What’s your deal?”
I glance back at Gavin, who freezes for a split second, jaw tightening. His hands twitch, like he wants to pull me back into his orbit, but he stays still, calculating.
Josh groans loudly, slapping his forehead. “Oh, come on. This is exactly why I hate front-row seats. Ugh!” His embarrassment radiates off him, half-grossed-out, half-panicked, like he’s trapped in some bad romance movie.
“I… I’m Ari,” I say quickly, trying to keep my voice calm. “I—just visiting.”
The guy laughs, leaning in, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Visiting, huh? Really? You come all this way just to see the QB? What’s it like… being his girl?”
My stomach drops. I stiffen, but I refuse to let him see it. Gavin’s jaw snaps tight, eyes blazing. I can feel the heat radiating off him—a silent warning in every inch of his posture. Josh mutters under his breath, “Oh no… no, no, no…”
The guy grins wider, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s getting. “C’mon, tell me. How long has this been going on? You two—what’s the story?”
Gavin finally steps forward, hands lightly but firmly on my shoulders. His gaze pins the guy in place. “Enough.” His voice is low, steady, each word heavy with authority. “She’s fine. Step back.”
The guy smirks, not intimidated. “Whoa, man, I’m just talking! Don’t get all protective on me, GM. Chill. I’m just curious!” He leans closer again, eyes flicking between Gavin and me, clearly trying to provoke him.
I press myself slightly into Gavin, grateful for the grounding heat of him. Josh groans again, rubbing his face like he’s trying to erase the scene from existence. “I cannot—cannot—deal with this right now.”
Mara stands a few feet away, watching silently, head tilted. She doesn’t know about last night, or about Gavin and me, but she can sense the tension crackling—Gavin protective, Josh mortified, and me… stuck in the middle.
The guy, undeterred, leans closer, voice teasing and flirtatious. “So… you really came all this way for him? Cute. Smart. Funny, I bet. How long have you been his… uh… girlfriend?”
I stiffen again, caught off guard. Gavin’s hands tighten subtly on my shoulders, a silent warning not to answer. Heat radiates off him like fire, making it clear he won’t let anyone get in between us.
Josh swallows, hands clenching, clearly torn between stepping in and letting Gavin handle it. It’s still his little sister, after all.
I press into Gavin instinctively, feeling his reassurance in every movement. The guy chuckles, finally backing off slightly, though he keeps his eyes on me, curiosity and challenge dancing in them.
Gavin leans closer, forehead brushing mine, whispering, “You’re here. That’s all that matters. Ignore him.”
I nod, letting his warmth center me, even as the guy smirks, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s stirred. Josh mutters something under his breath, still half-grossed-out, half-terrified for me.
And in that moment, I realize—no matter how much the world presses in, no matter who flirts or tries to provoke, Gavin is mine. He always has been, and he always will be.
The guy smirked one word too many—something slick, something about me—and Gavin snapped. His fist connected before I could even gasp, the sound cracking through the parking lot.
“Gavin!” Josh lunged instantly, grabbing him by the arm. Eben appeared out of nowhere, shoving himself between them, trying to pin Gavin back. The guy staggered, clutching his jaw but still grinning like he’d won.
Gavin’s chest heaved, eyes wild, locked on the guy like he was daring him to breathe wrong.
“Enough!” Eben barked, yanking him toward the car.
Josh shoved Gavin into the back seat, practically slamming the door shut. But before it could click closed, Gavin’s hand shot out, caught mine, and yanked me inside with him.
“Oh, hell no.” Josh groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Mara—get in. You’re riding shotgun. I’m not leaving my sister and Gavin in the backseat of my car unsupervised.”
Mara blinked, confused, but climbed in beside Josh anyway, muttering, “This is… absolutely insane.”
Josh pointed a finger back at us, his voice sharp like he was laying down the law. “Rule number one: no kissing. Rule number two: no touching. Rule number three: if I so much as hear something gross, I’m pulling over and walking you both back to your precious fairytale.”
Gavin didn’t answer. His eyes were still locked out the window, jaw tight, chest rising and falling like thunder trapped inside him. His knuckles were red. His face was cut with fury.
But his hand never let go of mine.
Josh muttered,
slamming the car into gear, “Unbelievable. Eben, meet us back at your place. And for the record—this is not how I wanted to spend my afternoon.”